


Taken

by pugoata



Category: RWBY
Genre: 3 x 23, 6/9, Bumbleby - Freeform, F/F, Just filth, Smut, canon through volume 6, this is filth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2020-04-23 18:55:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19156942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pugoata/pseuds/pugoata
Summary: A charity gala at Schnee Manor is the perfect distraction. Blake and Yang have one mission: break into Jacques Schnee’s office to steal critical intel that will expose SDC’s mistreatment of the Faunus. Missions like these reminded Blake of her past, of her days in the White Fang. Only this time, she’ll have Yang by her side, her beauty proving to be quite the distraction of its own.“How poetic would it be?” Yang asked, her left hand slinking up Blake’s thigh. “Having a Faunus, bent over his desk…”





	Taken

Blake set her champagne on the table, watching the guards as they cut their way across the dance floor. Though one of them had a hand on the butt of his baton, both of them looked more exasperated than alarmed as they made their way toward Nora.

“That’s our cue,” Yang murmured, her voice just low enough to make goosebumps run down Blake’s shoulders. She could hear the high-pitched rise of Nora’s voice, and even she couldn’t tell if she was actually drunk or if she was just playing the role well. Yang smirked as they heard her let loose a long string of profanities as the guards approached her.

If there was anyone who could cause a distraction, it was definitely Nora.

They wouldn’t have much time to slip out the doors. Security in Schnee Manor was tight, even during this charity gala, but with the guards from the northeastern door preoccupied, Blake and Yang could slip away easily. Blake shot one last look at Qrow, who had somehow gotten Jacques Schnee engaged in a heated conversation. There was little to worry from him, either. 

Yang pulled her scroll out of her cleavage, winking at Blake, who only rolled her eyes.

“Is that really necessary?” she asked, looping her arm through Yang’s free one. At least they’d gotten time to enjoy a few dances together; whether or not they’d be able to come back for more depended entirely on how this mission went. They wove through the crowd casually, not too quickly so as not to draw attention.

“This dress doesn’t have pockets,” Yang replied with a shrug, metal fingers tapping the screen to locate their map. Jacques Schnee’s office was on the second floor, and the manor was a maze.

Weiss and Winter had worked a miracle, finding dresses and suits on such short notice. Yang was a vision in her orange gown, with gold beading on the bodice that reminded Blake of the way campfires crackled. Everyone managed to pull off the elegant look tonight, but they all paled in comparison to Yang. 

Not that she was biased or anything. Even among the glamor of the Atlas elite, there was no question that her girlfriend had been most beautiful woman on the dance floor.

Hell, she was probably the most beautiful woman on Remnant.

They slipped out the door and sure enough, no one followed them. With the ball in full swing, the rest of the manor was oddly empty and silent in a way that made Blake nervous. They halted when they rounded the corner. Yang swiped her scroll, zooming in on their location to orient themselves. All they needed to do was get to the office, download the files, and leave. It was quick, simple-- nothing compared to the dangerous missions she’d done in the White Fang. She didn’t even technically need Yang there, but neither of them liked the idea of doing the mission alone. Her last solo mission still weighed heavily on her mind. Even though Adam was two months dead, she still felt better with Yang at her side.

“If only I’d gotten one more dance with you…” Yang murmured, looking up from the map and peering down the hallway towards their destination.

“So a full hour of dancing wasn’t enough?” Blake asked, keeping her voice just as low. The corners of her mouth twitched in amusement. 

“It’ll never be enough. This way.” Yang tucked the scroll back down her front, leading Blake further from the ballroom, and up a wide flight of stairs.

So much space… and it was all built on the backs of her people. Bile had risen in Blake’s throat when they’d first arrived at the manor. How many Faunus had to die for this… _opulence_? According to Weiss, the Schnee Estate had been large at the beginning; even before the Schnee Dust Company had been created, they had been a wealthy family. Jacques, however, had no illusions of modesty. Under his control, he’d grown the manor, turning it into a symbol of unnecessary grandeur that the Faunus had come to despise. It was a monument to cruelty, to oppression, to hate.

Statues and paintings lined the corridors, though they didn’t linger to look. This was a mission, and they couldn’t afford to be caught.

“Here,” Yang said, stopping in front of a thick wooden door. She tried the handle, though they both knew it would be locked. 

“Cover me.” Blake pulled the lock picks from her hair, her bun tumbling apart. Yang’s gaze may have rested on her a little too long, but she snapped back to the hallway. Not that they actually expected to be interrupted; all the staff and guests were busy in the ballroom and the kitchens. Nobody would be so far from the party.

To her surprise, the lock on the door was simple, easy to pick. As a wealthy man, she had fully expected Jaques to have something more formidable than a common pin tumbler. She could only guess that with so much extra security, he hadn’t expected any intruders to even make it to his office. Wealth bred complacency, she had to assume.

“We’re in,” she told Yang, turning the knob and pushing the door inward. Yang slipped in behind her.

“Wow,” Yang muttered, looking around while Blake locked the door again. It was much larger, much grander, than even Blake had expected it to be. It was easy to see where Weiss got her organizational skills. Everything in the office was _neat_. Everything had its place. There were no papers thrown about haphazardly, no clumsy stacks of books. There was no mess.

Which made it easier to find what they wanted.

Blake slid around one of the couches as she made her way to the desk. She found the tablet tucked neatly into one of the desk drawers. “Yang, scroll?”

She nearly jumped when Yang burst out laughing.

“Is that… _him_?” she exclaimed, pointing at a portrait above the desk. Blake had been so focused on the tablet that she hadn’t even fully recognized the man in the portrait. A small grin broke across her face. “Is he trying to look _seductive_?”

“That’s…” Blake began, but her words dissolved into a giggle. “Shit, Yang, just give me your scroll.”

Grinning wickedly, Yang handed it over. The metal was still warm from where it had been tucked against Yang’s skin. Blake refused to think about that as she synced the devices, selecting everything that looked even remotely important. She couldn’t be distracted now. She couldn’t think about their stolen kisses, the heat of Yang’s body pressed against her own, what they’d done on the rare occasions they’d been alone…

It was hard to keep your mind on business when your girlfriend-- _girlfriend_ , she could still hardly believe the word-- looked like a burst of fire in her glittering gown.

Yang finally found her way around the desk, close enough to Blake be distracting. She sighed, turning back to Yang.

“Yes?” she asked dryly. Yang’s metal hand reached out to Blake’s hair, finding the ribbon and tugging it free. Her ears twitched, relieved to be out of the confines of her bow.

“I bet he’d be pissed if he knew a Faunus was in his office,” she replied in a low voice, smirking. 

“Is this your way of sticking it to the man, or something?” Blake asked, amused, looking down at the scroll. It would be a few minutes before it had finished downloading the files. 

“That, plus, your dress looks a lot better when you’re not wearing a bow. Though… you’d probably look better not wearing a dress, either.” Yang pulled away the sheer scarf that been draped around her shoulders, casting it to the floor. It drifted down lazily. Blake flushed. Yang would be the death of her, with her red eyes that roamed her body greedily and a smile that knew it would get what it wanted. And Blake, _always_ , would throw herself to that death with a smile.

Yang pressed her against the desk, and Blake was suddenly drowning in her heat, drunk with her fire. Yang’s lips were on hers, or maybe they’d always been there, soft and sweet. Yang sucked her lower lip between her teeth and the noise that Blake let out wasn’t quite a whine. 

It was hard to find time alone when you were constantly surrounded by other people, but by God, they were alone now.

Having Yang’s lips on her neck was like being licked by flame. Blake tilted her neck, stretching the canvas for Yang to mark. She traced down Blake’s neck, stopping along the vein to suck. It was hard enough that Blake gasped, though Yang massaged the spot with her tongue soothingly before continuing downward. Blake leaned back, melting…

A strapless dress meant Yang’s mouth wasn’t limited by sleeves or straps. She trailed the expanse of Blake’s collarbone with her lips, her tongue. She left sloppy kisses along Blake’s shoulder as she began to tug up the thin material of Blake’s dress.

“Really?” Blake asked, her words hardly more than a breathy whisper. It wasn’t a fight; she could feel slickness between her legs.

“How poetic would it be?” Yang asked, her left hand slinking up Blake’s thigh. “Having a Faunus, bent over his desk…”

“I wouldn’t use the word _poetic_.” Blake bit her lip as Yang touched her over her underwear. “But it would be… _oh_!”

Yang grinned, rubbing her over the thin fabric. “You’re so wet already,” she remarked. She pulled her fingers away, eyes glinting as Blake opened her mouth to protest. “But I said _bent over_.”

Blake spun around a little too quickly, and she could hear Yang’s quiet laughter as she lowered herself, face-down, onto the desk. Inch by inch, Yang pulled the dress up over her ass, the midnight purple silk spilling out around her hips and pooling onto the wooden surface of the desk. She drew in a breath at the sensation of metal over her underwear. The lace was a thin, flimsy thing, and it offered no protection from the cold metal.

“Were you expecting to get lucky tonight?” Yang asked, amused, hooking her fingers into the waistband and dragging it down, over her ass until Blake was able to wiggle out of it. “I didn’t even know you _owned_ lace.”

“A girl can dream,” Blake remarked, swallowing as the metal hand slid over bare skin. “I just didn’t expect it to be _here_.”

Yang’s hand slid further south, curving underneath her. Blake turned her head back as far as it would go, but she couldn’t get a good view of what Yang was doing. Her breaths came quickly, breathlessly, and as she felt Yang press her body into Blake’s back. She kissed down her spine, over the dress, only stopping at the exposed small of her back.

“God, you can’t know how hot this looks.” Yang’s breath was hot against her skin. Blake felt goosebumps sprout there, spreading rapidly across her back and up her neck.

A soft moan escaped her as Yang ran a finger up her slit. Blake tried to grind against it, to draw it inside her, but Yang only tsked and pulled her hand just out of reach.

"That bad, huh?" she teased. 

" _Yang_ ," Blake pleaded, keeping the movement of her hips at the barest minimum. _She_ knew she was desperate, but she was still under the impression that she could somehow keep herself from looking _too_ obvious.

"You really are soaked," Yang went on, almost conversationally, brushing her cold metal fingers against Blake tauntingly, and much too lightly. "You're going to make such a mess here…"

" _Yang_." It was almost a whimper. There was a small lamp ahead of her, to her side. She wrapped a hand around its neck, gripping it hard enough to turn her knuckles white. Her breath caught on a jagged inhale when Yang slipped two fingers straight into her. " _Yang_ ," she repeated, agonizing, as she held them there.

She felt Yang’s free hand on her neck, combing the hair away to reveal smooth slope of her neck. She kissed it gently, though as she began to pump her fingers inside of Blake, her lips became more insistent. Blake closed her eyes, letting out a low moan as Yang scraped skin with her teeth. There would be a bruise there, but in this moment, Blake couldn’t bring herself to care. The pressure was all-consuming.

Yang snaked around her front, and Blake’s moans grew in volume even as Yang’s fingers trailed down the indent of her thigh. She avoided her clit directly, instead focusing her touch on the skin around it. Blake panted, her hips rolling on their own accord, urging Yang’s hand where she wanted-- _needed_ \-- it most. 

Then, she nearly jumped. “Yang, what--?” she began, eyes widening as fingers inside her began to vibrate. Yang laughed, utterly delighted with what she’d done.

“My hand isn’t just a weapon,” she murmured, kissing her way down Blake’s back. “It can do some… _other_ things, too. It just… hadn’t felt like the right time to try it out until now.”

“ _God_ ,” Blake groaned, hand clenching the lamp ever-tighter. Her other hand reached up, grabbing at the edge of the desk as Yang picked up speed. She’d lost track of her volume, lost control. She cried out with each thrust of Yang’s fingers, their mission long forgotten even as her scroll _dinged_ that it had finished downloading the files.

Her world was full of Yang, her thoughts, her _body_. Even in a miserable place like Atlas, some things were beautiful. She dripped down Yang’s fingers, heedless of the mess it would make. With Yang inside her, she felt complete. The past could be the past. With Yang, she was whole.

Slippery fingers finally danced across Blake’s clit, filling the promised need. She was so worked up that it didn’t take long. She shuddered, moaning Yang’s name in a tangle of incoherent gasps. Yang’s fingers stopped vibrating, but remained where they were, holding Blake steadily on them through her climax. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly as her body twitched.

A soft, regretful sigh bubbled out of her as Yang finally withdrew her fingers. On top of her, Yang’s body was a comforting weight, but then she shifted back up. Blake rolled a little onto her side, enough to catch Yang’s smirk. She held her mechanical hand before Blake’s face. In the dull light, her cum glistened across her fingers as Yang spread them experimentally. 

“Taste yourself,” she instructed lowly. Blake obeyed immediately, sucking the digits to the second knuckle. She swirled her tongue around them, eyes locked onto Yang’s red ones. She saw Yang swallow before she hastily drew her fingers out of Blake’s mouth. “God, you’re hot,” she remarked, almost to herself.

“You… just fucked me on Jacques Schnee’s desk,” Blake replied with a small grin of disbelief. “I… Just, wow.”

Yang snorted, licking her fingers to clean up what Blake hadn’t finished. “And it was _hot_.”

Blake checked her scroll. Their mission was done, and they could technically rejoin the party again. The question was… did they even want to? Yang grinned at her, seeming to read her thoughts. She leaned back over Blake, guiding her onto her back. Her dress was still caught up around her waist, but neither of them moved to pull it back down. Instead, she slipped a hand to Blake’s back, pulling down her zipper.

Her heart beat faster with the thrill as Yang helped her pull it off and toss it onto the floor. Weiss probably would have thrown a fit at the pile they left it in, but that was only the most innocent of the sins they’d performed that night, nothing compared to what they’d done already. Without her dress, all Blake had left was a strapless bra, which Yang made quick work of, throwing it on top of the crumpled gown.

Yang trailed kisses haphazardly over Blake’s body, climbing onto the desk when she realized Blake’s face was just out of reach. She hiked her dress up to her waist, shifting awkwardly to pull her own underwear off. She flung it at the wall, where it landed on the bookshelf. Both of them laughed, but it was only the briefest interruption. Straddling Blake, she pressed their mouths together, need overcoming them once more.

As Blake pulled her closer, she fumbled with Yang’s zipper and the catch of her bra. Yang shrugged both off her shoulders, leaving her dress bunched around her waist. Neither of them wanted to disconnect long enough to fully remove it, and personally, Blake found it hotter that way.

“Get up here,” she managed to pant, tugging Yang by the thighs.

“You, scoot down first. There isn’t enough room.”

Muttering under her breath, Blake slid down, throwing her feet up onto the desk chair to give Yang space to move. It wasn’t the most comfortable, not by a long shot, but Blake told herself it was the _principle_ of the thing. If they wanted to desecrate Jacques’s desk properly, it was worth sacrificing a little comfort. 

When Yang lifted herself up to allow the adjustment, Blake noted with satisfaction that she’d left behind a damp spot on her skin.

“Now,” she hissed, grabbing her thighs with enough force to almost knock her over. Yang let out a startled laughing, but she moved on her knees onto each side of Blake’s face, though just out of reach of her tongue.

“So impatient,” she remarked casually, as if she wasn’t already soaked through with need. Blake saw through it so easily, saw the trembling of her muscles, the goosebumps on her flesh.

“Do you want me to fuck you or not?” she demanded. Again, Yang laughed before slowly lowering herself.

She _was_ right, however. Blake had no patience left, and she dipped tongue in, skirting around folds and through floods. Yang grunted, her muscles clenching already from a mix of pleasure and the effort it took to keep upright. She was trying to hold herself back, as well, Blake realized. She wouldn’t let herself moan until Blake had left her no other choice.

That wouldn’t be long, she thought with a smirk, her tongue plunging in.

Yang was shaking as Blake swirled leisurely around her clit, toying with her. She gripped her thighs more tightly, even as Yang bucked against her. Blake loved doing this, breaking the walls Yang so carefully built around herself, breaking her composure, turning herself into the only thing Yang was capable of even thinking about, and--

“ _Fuck_ , Blake,” Yang moaned. “ _Fuck_ me, God, just _fuck_ \--”

Her words crumbled into mindless gasps as Blake flicked her tongue, then sucked her clit into her lips, holding the pressure. Above her, Yang threw her head back and sounding a loud, deep noise that might have sounded like a sob. It wasn’t a climax, but Blake didn’t want to take her over the edge too quickly. She released the suction, taking a moment to savor Yang’s taste as she lapped at the persistent wetness.

Something rough, something gold, fell over her eyes. Yang had evidently been clenching her tulle skirts in her hand, but released it to lean forward and grip the edge of the desk.

“Blake, _fuck_ me,” Yang repeated, her volume increasing in her desperation. “ _God_ , Blake, _please_. Make me cum.”

She always talked so much when she was being fucked, but Blake had learned what would shut her up.

She flattened her tongue and slowly licked one long, upward stroke. Yang rocked against her mouth, moans becoming more wild, more wanton. If anyone had been passing by the door, surely they would have heard this. Even then, Blake didn’t stop, pressing her tongue against Yang’s clit, alternating the pressure before finally curling her lips around it once more.

Blake had to hold tightly to Yang’s thighs as she convulsed, her twitches so violent that she was seriously concerned Yang would topple off the desk completely. Instead, she pulled herself off, sitting herself upright on the desk to catch her breath. She looked a mess, her elegantly styled hair in disarray and her gown still in a knot at her waist. Yet, she was even more radiant than she had been on the dance floor, her cheeks rosy in her afterglow.

Blake licked her lips, still tasting Yang’s cum, and wiped her chin on her forearm. Yang grinned at her before flopping backwards, her hair tumbling over the edge of the desk.

“Gimme a minute,” she said, waving her hands dramatically. Blake snorted.

“Take your time. It’s not like we’re trespassing anywhere, or anything.”

“That’s the spirit.”

Blake moved the remaining few inches to the edge of the desk, pulling her feet off the chair and cracking her neck. She was still achingly wet, and she knew she had to have left a trail of it where she had scooted, but she couldn’t even bring herself to care. Fuck the man who owned this desk, she thought wildly. This had to count as revenge of some kind, didn’t it?

She hopped off, bending over to pick her gown off the floor. Weiss would _definitely_ have a few choice words to say to them about the state of their dresses, she thought with a wince. As she began to stand back up, she felt a light slap on her ass.

Yang was smirking, stretched lazily across the length of the desk, hand still reached out. She’d pulled her dress the rest of the way off; it was heaped at the base of the desk. 

“Weiss is gonna kill you,” she told Yang with an eyeroll.

“So? It’s not like we’re gonna go to anymore balls anytime soon.” Yang rolled her shoulders in a shrug, the movement accentuating her collarbone. Underneath her past scarves and collars, Blake had never been able to truly appreciate Yang’s angles. Seeing her now, like this, wasn’t the first time Blake had felt her breath catch in wonder that this beautiful woman wanted _her_.

Blake fanned out her dress before her, beginning to open it up and step into it, but Yang shook her head. With a slight smile, she lowered the dress back down.

“What?” she asked, trying not to sound as eager as she felt.

“I’m not done with you yet, baby,” Yang told her, somewhat lazily, springing to her feet. Her smile was dangerous, and Blake felt a tingle run up her back. She dropped her dress back to the floor, and spread her hands.

“Then take me,” she dared. Yang’s eyes flashed red.

She was on her back again, over the desk, Yang’s body tight on her hers as they kissed. She cupped Blake’s breast, stroking a nipple under her thumb as she slipped a thigh between her legs. Blake groaned at the pressure and began to ride it, her attempt at aloofness rapidly spiraling out of her grasp.

Yang tangled her other hand in Blake’s hair, curling it into a fist when Blake bit her lower lip and raked her nails along her back. There might be questions if Yang chose not to heal the scratches with her aura, but a part of Blake hoped that she’d keep them as a testament to what they’d done here tonight.

“And you think _I’m_ bad,” Yang murmured, rocking her leg back and forth on Blake’s cunt, pulling her apart so easily. “I bet I could get you off just from this.”

“Is that a threat?”

“Maybe, but only if you don’t sit up.”

Blake narrowed her eyes, but did as she was told when Yang stepped back. When she’d situated herself, Yang wrapped her arms around Blake’s calves to pull her to the edge. She knelt, spreading her legs slowly, methodically, ensuring Blake would have to wait to get what she wanted.

The height of the desk made it awkward, but Yang didn’t complain as she got up on her knees, her face lingering inches away from her cunt. Her breath was cool against her heat, her wetness, and she tried to angle herself closer to Yang’s mouth.

“You seem a little excited there,” Yang remarked. She looked up at Blake, pupils wide and full of mischief. “Tell me what you want. I wanna hear you say it.”

Blake couldn’t stop the desperate sound that escaped from her throat. And just like that, the tables had turned, and now she was at _Yang’s_ mercy.

“Fuck me,” she begged. “Please, _God_ , Yang, I need your-- your _tongue_ , I need you _in_ me, _God_ \--”

Yang’s tongue on her was a relief, an answer to a prayer. Blake sat, transfixed on the gentle bobbing of Yang’s head, her body trying to find a rhythm to complement the movement. It was too good-- it _all_ felt too good. She rolled her head and leaned back on her elbows, her whole body going into her moans, falling apart around Yang’s touch.

This time, when Yang’s fingers slipped inside of her, Blake anticipated the vibration. Even so, her body quaked and her groans were loud and guttural. 

By the time she came, it was only Yang’s name on her lips. The rest of the world could crumble apart, but Yang’s name tethered her to the ground.

Or to the _desk_.

Yang stood shakily, but looked down at Blake with such tenderness that a different kind of heat flooded her body. It was as if Yang’s own aura had trickled into her, warming her soul, her heart. For all she knew, maybe their connection _did_ extend to their auras, merging into one another and making them _one_. She sighed as Yang leaned over her, meeting her lips gratefully, tasting herself there. Even if they were struck down there, if they were splintered into a thousand pieces, nobody would be able to tell the pieces apart. Too many bits and pieces of themselves _were_ a part of each other. That had to be it.

Their souls _were_ one.

“I love you,” Yang told her softly when she broke the kiss. “More than you could ever know.”

“But I _do_ know,” Blake replied. When had her voice become so hoarse? “Because that’s how much I love you back.”

They stared into each other’s eyes, Blake seeing miles of love, of care, of gentleness in the clear lilac. No longer was this a simple, rebellious fuck. Nothing could ever be that, not truly, not with them. Every moment they were together, every breath they shared, was their own. Each space, no matter how cold or how hostile, belonged to them when they were this close.

So they rested there, breathing each other’s air, paying no mind to the passage of time. They might have even stayed there all night, had Yang’s scroll not started ringing to knock them out of their reverie.

“Shit,” Yang grumbled, pushing herself up and grabbing the scroll. “It’s Weiss.”

_What’s taking you so long??_ the text demanded. _Did you get the files or not?_

Yang tapped out a reassuring reply while Blake rolled off the desk. This time, she knew she had to put her dress back on, to wrap her ears back up in their bow, to pretend she hadn’t just been fucked senseless. She combed her tousled hair through her fingers. It would be too much work to arrange her lockpicks back into a bun, so she tucked them into her bra. 

“Can you zip me up?” she finally asked, turning around. Yang’s hair was in much worse shape than her own, blonde curls trying to wisp away from her temples. “Oh, _that’s_ sex hair,” she remarked, unable to stop the slow smile from swallowing up her face.

“At least it’ll give us an excuse if anyone catches us,” Yang replied with a shrug and a smile of her own. “We can say we were… what did Qrow say the other night? _Necking_.”

“Please don’t say that.”

“ _Girls, no necking on the sofa_ ,” Yang said, lowering her voice into an imitation of Qrow’s gravelly one as she slipped the straps of her dress over her shoulders. Blake snorted. That had been an embarrassing encounter. If he’d walked in on them five minutes earlier--

“Yang, I think you’re missing a few beads.” She poked at Yang’s bodice, picking at one of the loose threads that had held a bead.

“Shit.”

They devoted a few minutes to searching the carpet for the two glimmers of tiny gold beads. Yang breathed a sigh of relief as she took the last one from Blake.

“Now Weiss really _is_ gonna kill me,” Yang complained, cramming the beads into her cleavage. “You ready?”

“Just about.” Blake picked the scarf up off the floor, draping it around her shoulders. “Let’s go.”

Sneaking in was just as simple as sneaking out. After a quick text to Weiss, she caused another small distraction. Blake was surprised at how shrill Weiss could sound when throwing a mock tantrum, but she was grateful for it. Nobody noticed as they slipped back into the ballroom.

It was another few minutes before they were able to reconnect with Weiss and Ruby. Yang slid a hand around Blake’s waist.

“How was it?” Ruby asked, bobbing up to them. At some point that night, she must have kicked her heels off, for her shoes were nowhere to be found. “It took you a while.”

“We got a little lost,” Blake told her quickly when she saw Yang begin to smirk. “It’s a big place.”

“Oh my _God_.” Weiss was glowering as she stomped toward them. “ _What_ have you done to your-- and _God,_ Blake, your _neck_!”

Yang smoothed a hand over her dress, feigning innocence, while Blake tried to cover the marks on her neck with her hair. Ruby stared in horror, Weiss with something close to rage.

“Ah…” Blake looked over at Yang, the action sealing their guilt. “Well, we got the files. That’s the important thing, right?”

“Oh my _God_ ,” Weiss hissed, glaring from one of them to the other. “Did you--?”

“Blake, it sounds like another song is starting!” Yang interrupted, her cheeks turning red. “Let’s go.”

They darted away from Weiss as quickly as they could, disappearing into the throng before they could be stopped. Yang heaved a sigh of relief as she wrapped her arms around Blake.

“Crisis averted!”

“You know we’ll have to face her later, right?”

“And by then, maybe she’ll have cooled off!” Yang grinned at her. Again, they were moving in time with each other, only this time, across the dance floor. “And who knows, maybe once we show her the files, she won’t even remember being mad.”

“Right.” Blake rolled her eyes. For a few minutes, they rocked with each other, just as much together here as they had been in the office. Even Weiss was easy to forget about in each other’s company.

“Y’know,” she said, leaning closer. “I’m thinking… Our dresses are already pretty messed up.”

“Oh?” Yang asked, eyes glinting.

“And everyone else will be here for a while…” Blake let the words trailed off. It didn’t take long for Yang to connect the dots. She smirked.

“We could probably get some time alone back at the apartment for a little bit.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

They didn’t bother with telling Weiss. They sent Ruby a quick text, telling her where they’d gone, and a half-hour later, they were back where they’d started, only now in the dark apartment. 

It was so hard to find time alone, after all.

Mouths on each other, Blake pulled up Yang’s skirt, threading a hand between her legs. Her eyes widened as she touched bare skin. 

“Yang… did you…?”

“ _Shit_.” For a moment, Yang pulled back, dumbstruck. She thought for a minute, groaned, and finally shrugged. “I guess I left them on the bookshelf… Not much I can do about it now, though.”

The thought of some housekeeper, or even Jacques Schnee himself, coming across a mysterious pair of underwear on a bookshelf was a thought both horrifying and hysterical. When Blake crashed their lips together again, she was still laughing.

**Author's Note:**

> Done for the 6/9 Clam Fam Pornstravaganza.
> 
> Thank you to my beta-reader [@niphyx](http://niphyx.tumblr.com)! For tidying, helping with my summary, my title... She's essentially just my brain cell.
> 
> Happy 6/9, ya nasty fools.


End file.
